


Familia Ante Omnia

by Trashy_Bunny



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Brotp, Clary Fray & Alec Lightwood Friendship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Future Fic, Gen, M/M, Memory Loss, Not Beta Read, Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s03e22 All Good Things..., Protective Alec Lightwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 14:42:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20311204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trashy_Bunny/pseuds/Trashy_Bunny
Summary: Clary runs into a strange man in a club.Why does he look so familiar?And what the hell do those tattoos mean?(Also known as the fic where Alec always protects his family, whether they know it or not.)





	Familia Ante Omnia

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something that's been floating around in my mind lately. Let me know what you think! ♥️ much love, lovelies!

Clary hadn't _ really _wanted to go out that night. She had another gallery showing in two days and it had been hard enough to prepare with the frequent headaches she had been getting, and adding alcohol to the mix just seemed like a bad idea.

But here she was, sipping a surprisingly well priced drink, in a club called ‘Pandemonium’ at almost 11 o'clock at night and silently wishing she was painting instead.

"Try not to look like you're having too much fun." Kayla rolled her eyes and sipped her fruity cocktail, lounging on the stool next to Clary with her elbows on the bar. Clary tossed her best friend and roommate an unimpressed look. 

"Forgive me for thinking this place is a little...much." She glanced around the large club, taking in the flashing lights and packed bodies with a nose wrinkle. Kayla had always been the more adventurous of the two of them. The dark haired girl loved this scene, entirely within her comfort zone surrounded by loud music and strangers dancing. 

Clary used to like places like this, especially before she got into art school, but over the past year going out with her friends seemed to make her feel...off. Sitting in a coffee shop with her gallery partner Eli or going to a club with Kayla always brought on an odd feeling of deja vu, like she'd done the same things before but with someone else. 

On top of that, her headaches had gotten worse and her recently huge workload had turned her into even more of a homebody. Kayla had been trying to drag her out for almost three weeks now and if there was one thing that her best friend was, it was relentless. So, Clary had folded and reluctantly agreed to celebrating her newest gallery with a drink at whatever place Kayla chose.

Clary couldn't help but think this wasn't the best decision she had made lately.

"Oh come on! This is _ literally _ the best club in New York. Do you know how hard it was to get on the list for this place?" Kayla asked, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

"Nobody asked you to. You could have easily picked somewhere less exclusive." Clary raised her brows with a dismissive shrug, twirling her straw in her spiked lemonade. Her head was already starting to pound and she wasn't entirely sure it was due to the incredibly loud music. She kept seeing things wavering in the air when she glanced around, almost like a mirage, and it was making it hard to focus her eyes on anything for an extended period of time. Not to mention, her borrowed dress was incredibly short, courtesy of Kayla, and the looks she was getting were less respectful than she cared for.

"No way! I've heard stories about this place and let me tell you, I'd _ kill _ to meet the owner. I've heard he's super hot and super _ mysterious _." Kayla waggled her eyebrows, eliciting an eye roll from her friend. She whined, kicking her heeled feet against the stool.

"Clary, come _ on. _ I'm trying here. Would it really hurt you to pretend you're enjoying yourself?"

Clary sighed and pushed her hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry. I'm having one of those headaches again and I guess I'm just stressed about this gallery opening."

Kayla turned toward her, taking her hand and squeezing it. "You have nothing to worry about, you know that, right? Your art is phenomenal and everyone thinks so. Remember the last showing? Some anonymous guy bought that blue and gold painting of yours for a _ ton _ of money!"

"I know, I know…"

"And we will figure these headaches out. Have you gotten that MRI set up yet?" 

Clary shook her head. "No but I have an appointment with that fancy doctor next Thursday." 

Kayla grinned and grabbed her drink again, taking a long sip and pushing the empty glass aside. "See? Things will work out. Now come on, let's go dance. Maybe find you a guy to get your mind off of _ Jace _." She winked at Clary and hopped off the stool.

Clary groaned. "I knew telling you about him was a bad idea." 

The man had been a frequent attendee at her gallery showings. He didn't always show up but when he did, he was impossible not to notice.

All black clothes, leather jacket and combat boots. Golden blonde hair and possibly, Clary never got close enough to be sure, partially heterochromatic eyes. He was attractive, unfairly so in her opinion, but he never seemed to draw anyone's attention. In fact, she couldn't remember seeing anyone even look at him.

Which made no sense given the amount of strange tattoos he had.

The first time she had seen him with his sleeves pushed up, she had almost done a double take. The strange shapes covered his arms, foreign and painfully familiar in a way she couldn't place. She assumed he had more, judging by the stark black line that curved above the collar of his shirt and she tried to store the sight of them away to draw later so she could search for the meaning they might hold. 

But the moment he disappeared, so did all memory of what the odd marks looked like. She chalked it up to exhaustion and tried not to think about them too much. It only made her head hurt worse.

"Clary, you haven't seen him in months. Obviously he decided he wasn't interested, which is insane because you're super hot," Kayla gestured to her body and Clary flushed with a smile. "And you didn't get his number, so it's time to let it go and have some fun. Alright?" 

Kayla snagged her hand before she could respond and pulled her away from the bar and into the crowd of people, finding a small space for them near the middle of the room and tossing her hair as she began to sway to the music. Clary shifted uncomfortably as bodies bumped into her own. 

"Loosen up, Clary!" Kayla shouted over the music, grinning from ear to ear as she playfully bumped her hip against Clary's. Clary couldn't help but smile back and join her friend, twirling along to the loud club music. 

The thumping reverberated through her whole body, traveling from the bottom of her feet and settling into her chest, thick and bass heavy. She vaguely heard Kayla singing along to the lyrics next to her but paid it no mind, trying to immerse herself and drown out the headache in the back of her skull. It eased when she closed her eyes, tilting her head back up toward the ceiling as she rolled her hips to the beat, ignoring the other people bumping into her and focusing entirely on the feverish heat of the room.

The alcohol had started to take effect, her mind buzzing pleasantly with vodka and easing the pent up stress from her body.

This week had been terrible. Clary was loathe to admit it but she'd hit a wall with her painting. Every stroke of the brush felt wrong, her shades muddling instead of contrasting and blending together the way she wanted. She kept coming back to the same idea, shadowy figures floating around in her thoughts, faces she couldn't quite picture. She had desperately been trying to draw them when painting failed her but kept coming up with only the vaguest of features, nothing striking a chord or reminding her of anyone she knew. 

She also kept getting drawn to the same colors lately, much to the annoyance of her professor. Flashes of bright gold, soft swirling blues, sharp lines of silver, and amidst it all, black. 

She had always shied away from black. An irreversible stain on the paper, one to be used sparingly. And her latest pieces were far from lacking in the dark tone.

Clary swirled around as the song changed, looking around for Kayla. She caught sight of the dark haired girl grinding up against a pale man with a lip ring and held back an eye roll. It never took her best friend long to find a piece of eye candy to entertain herself with. The girl was one of the most charming people she'd ever met and absolutely refused to let herself be shamed for the fun she liked to have. 

Clary only had a problem with it when she walked in on it happening in their living room.

"Hey, sexy. What's a girl like you doing dancing alone?" 

Clary flinched as a hand slid around her waist and pulled her close to a broad chest, hot breath ghosting across her neck. She shoved instinctively at the limb holding onto her and spun around to face the brazen man.

He was _ big _, with short buzzed hair and a beard, t-shirt stretched too tightly across his chest and a wolfish grin on his face. Her lip curled in disgust. 

"Don't touch me like that again."

His smile widened as he moved closer. Her pulse picked up when she realized she didn't have the space to get away, the people dancing around her creating a barrier. She couldn't see Kayla anymore and no one seemed to notice her discomfort.

"I can touch you in another way if you like. Come on, baby. Let's have some fun." He reached out to grab her waist again and she sneered, taking another step back. 

"I said _don't_ _touch me._ I'm warning you." 

He laughed, a mocking noise. "Oh really? What are you going to do against me, little girl?" Something darkened in his eyes and Clary cast another desperate look around, hoping someone was paying attention. Nobody so much as glanced twice at her as the man loomed closer and with a deep breath, she lifted a heel and stomped down _ hard _ on his foot, taking only a moment to relish his grunt of pain before she was turning and shoving her way back toward the bar.

People glared at her left and right as she pushed them aside but she ignored them, moving as fast as she could to the well lit counter and hoping the presence of the club's staffed bartender would deter the man from approaching her again.

She didn't stop to breathe until she could settle her palms on the cool surface, leaning heavily against an empty stool. 

So much for a fun night out. 

Her mood was thoroughly ruined and she quickly resolved to spend the rest of the night sitting on the sidelines until Kayla was ready to leave. She debated catching a cab home without the girl but hated the idea of leaving her without telling her where she'd gone. Kayla would drift back to the bar for another drink eventually.

The bartender gave her a friendly smile as she ordered a water and the anxious knot in her chest eased a bit. She sipped the ice cold drink as she scrolled through her Instagram feed, killing time by watching the short art clips and storing away ideas for later experimentation. 

She was halfway through the glass when a rough hand grabbed her wrist and wrenched her off the barstool, causing her to stumble and almost fall to her knees. She steadied herself and tried to yank free of the grip, her stomach dropping when she looked up to meet the furious gaze of the man whose foot she'd injured only a little while ago.

"I'm trying to show you a nice time, you should be _ thankful _." He snarled the words, face contorted in rage and making him look ugly and far more dangerous than before. He held her with ironclad fingers and no matter how hard Clary pulled, there was no way she was getting free. A quick look out of the corner of her eye had her panic multiplying. The bartender was at the far end of the huge bar, talking animatedly with another customer, and didn't seem to be coming back this way anytime soon, especially considering she was the only person sitting this far over. 

"Let me go, damnit!" Clary smacked at his arm with her free hand, leaning back with her full body weight and trying to pull the man off balance. His feet were planted firmly to the floor and his large size ensured she wouldn't be able to get him to budge.

"Oh no. You're going to make up for what you did, you bitch-"

"_ Hey!" _

Clary glanced away from her captor, toward the direction of the new voice.

A tall, dark haired man was striding toward them quickly, eyes hard with barely restrained fury. He slipped through the crowd like the people around him weren't even there, and as he got closer, Clary's eyes widened.

There, stretched across the arch of this stranger's neck, was a mark eerily similar to the ones that she'd seen covering Jace's skin. 

The man holding her instantly dropped her hand as the stranger got closer to them and Clary took a large step back, almost bumping into the dark haired man when he stopped next to her. She almost jerked away, instinct telling her that another dangerous looking random guy was not a good thing, but stopped just before she did, a sudden gut feeling invading her thoughts.

She trusted him. She didn't know why, but his presence was oddly comforting and the longer she looked at him, the more she felt like she recognized him from somewhere.

"What's going on here?" He asked, folding his arms across his chest and staring down the man who'd been holding Clary hostage. He didn't spare a glance at her, even as he took a half step forward, partially blocking her body with his own.

Clary couldn't help but notice that even in heels, he was almost a whole head taller than her.

"None of your business. This is between me and her, isn't it sweetheart?" The stocky man gave her a smirk, one that made her feel dirty just from looking at it.

"I think it's clear she's not interested." The dark haired man responded, voice flat. Clary couldn't see his expression from where she was standing now, but something told her it was probably blank, almost bored judging by his tone.

"Listen buddy, I don't know who the _ hell _ you are but you better back off."

Clary paled. She really didn't want to be the reason for this guy getting hurt. Sure, he was tall and definitely had some muscle mass on him but there was no way he'd be able to overpower the other man, who looked like he regularly weight lifted cars in his spare time.

Her internal worrying was interrupted when the tattooed stranger spoke again.

"I'm her brother. And I'd suggest that unless you want to embarrass yourself, you turn around and walk away." 

“Ooh, big bad brother to the rescue, huh? You really think you can take me, pretty boy?” The man challenged with a scoff, puffing his chest out with a cocky expression. 

Clary was thankful the man hadn't pretended to be her boyfriend, as nice as he was being the idea made her uncomfortable, but most of all she was confused as to why he bothered acting like he knew her at all. Before she could ponder the thought further, she watched him take a warning step toward her attacker.

“I said _ walk away. _"

With a wordless snarl, the stockier man stepped forward and threw a sudden punch, surprising Clary and causing her to flinch. She opened her mouth to shout in protest, hoping to draw the attention of security before the tattooed man got hurt, but choked on the words as she watched the events unfolding before her.

The man protecting her had caught the clenched fist headed toward his face and instantly twisted the arm attached to it out of the way before bringing his other elbow up with one swift movement, so quick that Clary wasn't positive she had even _ seen _ him move, and forcefully colliding it with the shorter man's face.

He stumbled backward, blood pouring from his nose, and took only a moment to recover before he was charging back toward them. Clary barely had time to register what was happening before she was pushed out of the way by the tattooed man, who sidestepped his attacker and caught his left arm, twisting it at a painful angle around his back and slamming him face first down onto the bar.

The bearded man struggled to get out of the hold unsuccessfully as Clary watched in shock, her mind unable to comprehend how the _ hell _ the taller man had moved so fast and managed to pin the guy so quickly. 

The short fight had caused one of the stranger's sleeves to slide up and Clary's eyes lasered in on the sight of more of those stark black symbols.

Her headache pounded painfully behind her eyes, coming back in full force so suddenly that she swayed on her feet.

"Get off me, man! You made your point! Fuck!" The man thrashed against the counter, trying to shake the, evidently, stronger man.

"When I say walk away, you _ walk away. _" Her protector pulled the man away from the bar and shoved him forcefully toward two security guards that had materialized out of the crowd at some point. They each caught the injured man by one arm, prepared to drag him away when the tall man spoke again.

"Don't ever threaten my family again." 

He made a dismissive gesture and watched as the man got dragged away toward the front entrance. As soon as he was out of sight, the tattooed man made to walk away without another word. Clary reached out and grabbed him by the arm.

"Hey, wait!" 

He turned around and met her eyes, face impassive. Her brows furrowed as she stared at his face, something akin to a memory tugging at the back of her brain as she looked over his features.

_ Hey Fray! We got a demon to hunt. _

She winced suddenly as pain lanced through her head and stared hard at him, the unfamiliar words in his voice echoing in her mind. She shook the bizarre thought away.

"Uh, thank you. For that."

"Don't mention it." He made a move as if to walk away again and the question tumbled from her lips before she could stop herself.

"Do I know you from somewhere? You look _ really _ familiar. And those tattoos…" She trailed off, gaze drawn to the mark on his neck again. He shifted uncomfortably, an unsettled, almost pained look flickering in his eyes.

"No. No, sorry." He glanced off to his side, the muscles in his jaw twitching. "I should be going. Take care of yourself, Fray." 

"Wait, what's your-" She reached for him again and blinked, looking around in bewilderment as the man seemingly disappeared in front of her. She hadn't even seen him slip into the crowd. 

"Name…" She finished her question lamely, dropping her hand as she continued to search around her to try and see where he'd gone. After a few moments, she gave up, wandering back to the bar and sliding onto a stool, her head still pounding and face contorted with confusion.

It wasn't until she'd finally settled down, her heartbeat returning to normal after the confrontation, that it hit her.

She hadn't told him her name.

** ******************************

Somewhere above the main club floor, hidden behind the two way glass of the VIP section, the tall stranger collapsed onto a plush couch next to another man, instantly tipping his head onto his shoulder. Ringed fingers slid through his hair.

"I shouldn't have done that."

"Alexander-" 

"Her face, Magnus. She knew. She recognized me. _I said her name._ We don't know what the angels will do if we meddle, I could have just jeopardized her health, her _ life- _"

"You protected her, darling. No sense in worrying about what's already done. Besides, I checked on her at her last gallery. She seems to be doing just fine."

Alec straightened up, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees, head hanging down. "Yeah, _ for now. _ She's already seen Jace, and now me, there's no way that won't have consequences." He exhaled, shoulders tensing up as he put his face in his hands. "Not to mention, if the Clave finds out…"

Magnus sighed and set his drink aside, sitting up and placing a hand on Alec's shoulder. The Shadowhunter looked up, meeting his eyes with a pained expression. Magnus gave him a sad smile.

"You did the right thing, Alexander. I would have done the same. We _ all _ would have. Memories or not, Biscuit is family." 

Alec glanced out toward the windows overlooking the club before leaning into Magnus' side and resting his head back on the man's shoulder.

"_ Familia ante omnia _." Alec murmured. 

Magnus rested his head against Alec's, lacing their fingers together between them. 

"Family before all." He echoed.

Alec squeezed his hand and both men fell into silence, an aching emptiness paralleled in their chests.


End file.
